


Christmas C.A.K.E.

by NoiraKai



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-01 19:45:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 17,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1047853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoiraKai/pseuds/NoiraKai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Starfighter Advent Calendar for 2013 <3<br/>My gift to each and every one of you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. O Christmas Tree

**Author's Note:**

> Names and sources. Please let me know if I got one wrong.  
> Abel - Ethan  
> Cain - Sacha (ASC)  
> Keeler - Elliott (me)  
> Encke - Nate (me)  
> Deimos - Aleks (Elisetales)  
> Praxis - Martin (TJ)  
> Ethos - Clarence (me)  
> Porthos - Dean (me)  
> Bering - Ralph (me)  
> Cook - Elias (Tomo)  
> Phobos - Remy (Tomo)

“What about that one?” Cain pointed to a potential Christmas tree, a fir that had been genetically engineered to bloom with beautiful red poinsettias. In his other hand, he held the handsaw that would be used to kill the prettiest tree that they found, so they could put it in their house. To be honest, Cain thought the whole thing was a bit weird.

“No..." Abel moped quietly beside him. "It's not _tall_ enough.”

Cain sighed. “Abel, you don't understand. You know why those trees are so tall?" He gestured to a group in another part of the farm. "It's because they're the reject trees from last year. Nobody wanted them.”

“Nu uh!" Abel protested, with a determined look in his eye Cain knew all too well. "We'll find a tree over there, and it will be perfect, goddammit!” he declared, and marched into the direction of the taller evergreens.

Cain sighed again, and followed after, wondering just how blasphemous it was to use the Lord's name in vain while shopping for a Christmas tree.

Abel stopped abruptly, clutching at his raw-looking hands. “Oh! It's so cold!” he gasped, his teeth chattering.

Cain closed the space between them and scowled in Abel's face. “Why the fuck didn't you wear gloves?!”

“I couldn't find any... I guess I forgot to pack them when I moved," Abel said with a shrug.

"It's below freezing! I told you how bad Mars winters could be... Here, give me your hands," Cain ordered, closing his hands over Abel's and rubbing them to get them warm. He looked back up at the blond, who was watching him with a tiny, mischievous smirk.

Cain looked at Abel suspiciously. "You just wanted to hold hands, didn't you?”

“Maybe...” Abel confessed, shivering at the same time.

Cain rolled his eyes and started to unbutton his jacket. “Here, put your hands in here,” he said as he opened it up. Abel hugged him under the jacket, wrapping his arms around Cain's middle, burying his ice-cold nose in Cain's neck.

Cain rested his chin on Abel's hair. “Tch! Now how am I supposed to chop down a tree, with you hanging on me like this?” he complained half-heartedly.

“Figure it out," Abel snapped back, melting even further under Cain's heavy coat.

Cain snorted a laugh at Abel's sass, smiling as he kissed unruly blond hair... wondering if Abel would still be in a bossy mood when they got home. "Hey," he murmured.

"Hmm?" Abel hummed into neck.

“Don't tell the others I said this, but you're my favorite."

Abel looked up at him and frowned. "Was... there some question about that?" he asked, raising a very stern eyebrow.

"Well, I _try_ to be impartial--" Cain admitted with a shrug.

"Sacha!" Abel yelped.

"What?! It's the four of us now, so--"

"No. Sacha. I found the tree," Abel said, pulling out of Cain's coat and pointing to The One. He broke into a jog, and Cain followed behind, carefully carrying the executioner's weapon as he loped through the snow. "The sign says it's a Blue Spruce mixed with Mistletoe berries," Abel said as Cain caught up to him. "What do you think?"

Cain thoughtfully scratched his head. "Mistletoe, eh? Does that mean our presents have to make out with each other underneath it?"

Abel smiled, and Cain started to wonder if the pink in his cheeks was just from the cold. "Maybe not just the presents..." the blond simpered.

"Ahhh..." Cain gave Abel a toothy grin, looking him up and down suggestively just to make him blush even more. "Yes I do believe this is the tree for us," he concurred, and leaned down to perform the Last Rites.


	2. Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree, Part 1

Keeler came into the living room with a mug of hot cocoa, appreciating the festive music and Abel and Encke's work on the tree as he went over to the couch. He sat next to Cain, who lifted an arm to let Keeler snuggle against his side. “Just supervising?” he asked, breathing in Cain's scent of trendy mens' deodorant, and the faint flavor of sugar cookies from his electronic cigarette.

Cain pouted, taking another drag from the plastic device. "I'm not allowed to help anymore...”

Keeler furrowed his brow. “Why aren't you allowed to help?!” he asked, sternly directing the question to the room at large.

“He kept trying to put decorations on his dick," Encke said, not taking his eyes off the string of garland he and Abel were passing back and forth.

Keeler and Cain exchanged immature looks behind his back. Apparently Encke took his tree decorating _very_ seriously. Keeler added that to his mental list of things he'd learned about Encke since they'd returned to civilian life. All four of them retired with officers' pensions, they made enough to afford a nice, four bedroom house on Colony Five. It also had a basement, which Encke had converted into a dungeon.

As Cain grabbed the steaming mug out of his hands, Keeler looked back at Encke and Abel, checking out their very firm tushes as they both stood facing the tree. “Oh well... This is a pretty nice view," he said, and Cain choked on his sip of cocoa.

"This... this isn't just hot chocolate," Cain remarked when he finally got through his fit of laughing and coughing.

"Nope! I spiked it with amaretto," Keeler grinned. "It's _grown up_ hot chocolate."

"Niiice..." Cain said with delight, and took another big drink before handing it back to Keeler.

"So, I was thinking..." Abel said from beside the tree. "About the gift situation."

 _"Is_ there a... 'situation'?" Cain asked skeptically.

"Well, I just figured, it might be easier if we picked out gifts in pairs. I thought maybe we could all go shopping together, and take turns pairing up with different people."

"Hmm..." Keeler pondered. "Well some of us _are_ pretty hard to shop for," he noted, looking pointedly at Encke.

"Hey!" Encke protested with a pouty look. 

"So yeah, it makes sense," Keeler continued. "I could help you and Sacha pick out presents for Nate. Is that what you mean?"

"Precisely. And then Nate would help me and Sacha pick out gifts for you," Abel explained.

"Sounds like fun!" Keeler agreed, and beamed a smile at Cain.

"Sounds complicated," Cain mumbled, and grunted when Keeler poked him with his elbow.

 

Abel gasped as the playlist of holiday music switched to 'The Christmas Song'. “Oh, I love this one!” he said as he handed the garland back to Encke.

Encke looked thoughtful for a moment, then set the garland down and walked over to the little blond. He held out his hand and smiled. “Can I have this dance?” he asked.

Abel's eyes got as big as saucers as he put his hand in Encke's. “Oh! Of -- of course...” he stammered, cheeks glowing red. Encke led him a few feet away from the tree, then put an arm around Abel's waist, pulling him close and holding Abel's eyes with a charming gaze.

 

Keeler let out a contented sigh as he watched them dance, snuggling even closer under Cain's arm and smiling to himself inside his mug of cocoa. Yes, everything was going according to plan.

 


	3. Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree, Part 2

Cain snorted quietly beside Keeler, as the two of them watched Abel and Encke dance. “Since when did he get all romantic and stuff?”

“Since I told him to...” Keeler half-whispered.

Cain turned to look at him. “What d'you mean?"

“Well in case you hadn't noticed," Keeler answered, so only Cain could hear. "They're the only ones out of all of us, who haven't had any... one-on-one time.”

“Yeah, so?” Cain scoffed, trying to pretend like he hadn't noticed or cared. There was the occasional threesome, but threesomes were complicated and made someone feel left out, so the foursome mostly ended up being an assortment of twosomes... Except Abel and Encke.

“So..." Keeler shrugged. "I thought maybe some... courtship might be in order.”

Cain squinted an eye. “'Courtship?'”

“Yeah, you know... goin' on dates and getting to know each other and stuff," Keeler explained. "They both seemed so nervous about it, I thought it might be better if they took things slow."

Cain humphed skeptically.  “Well. _I_ didn't court Abel," he argued, and took another drag of his e-cigarette.

Keeler shot him his still very potent serious-lieutenant look. "Yeah, well. Maybe you should have," he countered. Cain open his mouth to argue, but then his attention was suddenly drawn back to the center of the room. Keeler followed his gaze, looking just in time to see Abel's head tilt up in surrender, as he and Encke's lips met in a soft kiss. Encke wandered his hands up and down Abel's back, finally sliding them into Abel's back pockets, and pulling their bodies even closer together.

“Whoa...” Keeler heard himself say, the wind knocked out of his lungs by the sensual sight.

“Well done, love," Cain grumbled. "Maybe a little _too_ well done.”

Keeler smiled at him, sensing his jealousy. “Don't worry. If they run away together, you'll still have me.”

“Oh, is _that_ your game?" Cain said with a wolfish grin. "You just want me all to yourself, so you're getting rid of the competition!”

“No..." Keeler replied wistfully. "I'm greedy. I want all of you.”

Cain chuckled, and pulled Keeler even closer to him. "Yeah. Me too,” he said thoughtfully.

 

Abel and Encke finally broke apart once the song ended.  “Thanks," Abel breathed, still looking up at the taller man with wide eyes and pink cheeks. "That was really nice.”

Encke brought Abel's hand to his face, and gently kissed a knuckle. "It was my pleasure, little one," he said softly, smiling and nuzzling Abel's fingers.

 

Cain leaned over to whisper in Keeler's ear. "Is this the part where we yell at them to get a room?" he said.

"No, no..." Keeler shook his head, watching the other pair go back to work on the tree. "I think we should just see how it plays out. Let them figure it out on their own."

"Aw, that's no fun," Cain complained, reaching for Keeler's mug to steal another sip of grown up hot chocolate.


	4. All I Want for Christmas is You

Ethos sprinted across the huge commercial-sized kitchen as the he heard the phone beep, a customized sound that told him Porthos had sent him a text. He tripped over some cans someone had left on the floor, falling forwards onto the counter and scrambling for the phone.

_Sorry baby, but we're not getting leave for Christmas this year. Fighting is too heavy right now.  
_

Ethos closed his eyes, fighting back the surge of pressure behind his eyes that threatened to turn into tears. He tried to take in a deep breath to keep himself calm, but his lungs didn't want to fill up with air. It had been eight months since he'd seen Porthos in person, and three months since they could even communicate by video call. Ethos was sure it was going to be a miserable Christmas.

"Hey, Clarence?" someone said from the doorway. "There's a woman from the Military Police here to see you."

"An MP?!" Ethos squeaked, trying to wonder what on Earth he could have done wrong, even though he wasn't in the Alliance anymore. "What does she want?!"

The worker just shrugged, and got out of the way to let the MP pass. The tall woman walked over with a tablet under her arm, studying Ethos closely. "You the new manager of the soup kitchen?" she said gruffly.

"Y-yes ma'am, and the shelter next door," Ethos answered. "Is there a problem, ma'am?"

The MP shook her head. "We have a high ranking Alliance officer that was sentenced to community service for his crimes. Your predecessor had an arrangement with the Alliance, to occasionally take on such cases."

"Oh. I see," Ethos said, not quite breathing a sigh of relief.

"Would you be willing to supervise him and let him work here during the holidays?"

"Uh..." Ethos thought quickly through the hundreds of ways such an arrangement could go wrong. "Is he dangerous?"

"No," the MP said. "He's been on his best behavior since the trial. And he was convicted of a non-violent crime."

"What branch of the service is he in?" Ethos asked.

"He's a Fighter," the MP answered. "Along with helping in the kitchen, he can assist if you have any security issues."

"Oh, well..." Ethos's eyes darted around the room. "It wouldn't be _too_ much trouble I suppose... And I could use the help. When does he start?"

The MP pulled the tablet from under her arm. "As soon as you sign this form," she said, handing it to Ethos. "This just says that you agree to supervise two hundred and fifty hours of community service, and that you will notify us immediately if he doesn't show up for his duties or gives you any trouble."

"Oh, okay," Ethos said, and quickly printed his name and allowed the tablet to scan his handprint.

The MP took back the tablet, and walked back over to the door. "Commander?" she called, and soon after a middle-aged colonial man with a very familiar gleam in his eye stepped into the kitchen.

Ethos felt his heart stop in his chest, feeling very much like a deer in the headlights, as he and Commander Bering locked eyes.


	5. Santa Claus is Coming to Town

Keeler leaned against the counter, chatting up the department store clerk to try and get them a discount on their purchase. He had to have _some_ way of keeping his diplomacy skills sharp outside of the military. The posture had the secondary effect of giving Cain a very nice view of his ass, and Keeler was totally okay with that. As expected, it wasn't long before Cain's voice was low and hot and tickly in his ear. “Have I ever told you, how amazing your ass looks in jeans?” he murmured, playing with the material of Keeler's tight-fitting, long-sleeved shirt.

“Sacha, stop!” Keeler scolded half-heartedly, swatting him away.

“What, I'm not allowed to give you a compliment now?” Cain complained, faking a pouty look as he fiddled with the strap of his man-bag.

“Thanks...” Keeler said to the cashier, flashing her a brilliant smile as he took his receipt. Then he turned back to Cain, and took two steps closer as he looked him up and down appraisingly. “Yeah... just a compliment," Keeler scoffed. "You know you're just trying to convince me to go in the dressing room with you, so you can try me on.”

“Uh..." Cain looked utterly perplexed and maybe slightly embarrassed. It took him a few seconds to form a reply. "Hey. That was all you, love, I didn't say _anything!_ Don't be putting words in my -- hey where are you going?”

“To the dressing room. Are you coming or not?” Keeler said matter-of-factly, then turned around with a whip of his braid.

_"Fuck."_

Keeler smiled as he heard Cain swear stupified behind him, and headed towards the dressing rooms, shopping bags in hand.

 

* * *

 

He pounced on Keeler as soon as the door was closed, plastic bags falling on the ground as their mouths crashed together. They would have to be quiet about it he knew, but what better way to remind Keeler of that, than to stick his tongue down his throat and a hand down his pants?

Keeler whimpered, just barely audible, and grabbed his shoulders, insistent until Cain was pinned against the wall. Then Keeler dropped to his knees, practically ripping Cain's pants and his underwear around his thighs. He massaged his fingers over and behind Cain's balls as he locked eyes with Cain and swallowed him. Cain watched for only a second before it became too much, knocking his head back against the wall and bracing himself with one hand in Keeler's hair and the other in his own mouth, biting down on his fist to silence himself until he drew blood. Keeler's hands wandered underneath his shirt.

Cain grabbed Keeler's wrists as fingers brushed against his nipples, and the blond allowed himself to be yanked back up, pulling Cain's shirt up and over his head as he stood. Cain raised his arms and quickly got the shirt out of the way, and pulled Keeler to him, pressing their mouths together for a deep and slightly coppery kiss. Even as Keeler let out a confused grunt, he melted even more against Cain's body, grinding his erection against him needfully. Cain smirked into the kiss as he considered how best to take care of that need, and dropped his shirt forgotten on the floor.

Still leaning against the wall, he spun Keeler around to face away from him, exposing him to the mirror across the room. He slid a hand into Keeler's pants, groping him through his boxer-briefs as he growled in his ear.  “You don't move. I'm gonna get some stuff out of my--”

Keeler frantically shook his head.  “I don't -- I don't need it...”

"The fuck do you mean you don't need it?" Cain hissed, the words barely more than air. Keeler only looked at him with lust in his eyes, and then in the vague direction of his own ass.

Cain tugged Keeler's magnificently fitting jeans around his thighs, fast and rough, figuring the sound of clothes being taken off and put back on were the loudest noises they could make. He slid his fingers in, only to find a glass ring, the base of a plug buried in Keeler's ass.

“Ohhh, _nasty!"_ Cain breathed into Keeler's ear, even as he felt his own face go red. "Such a bad little boy, haven't you heard that Santa's coming?”

Keeler shot him an impatient glare in the mirror. “Shut up and fuck me already...”

Cain answered that by pulling the plug partially out, and then pushing it back in, fucking Keeler with it while he nibbled on an ear. “Don't tell the others I said this," he whispered, watching in the mirror as Keeler's mouth stretched open in a silent scream. "But you're _definitely_ my favorite...”

"Cain..." Keeler pleaded through gritted teeth. "Fuck me!"

"Oh, I'm going to fuck you," Cain growled low in his throat, still teasing Keeler with the toy. "I just haven't made up my mind how..."


	6. Christmas Don't Be Late

"Where could they be?" Abel wondered aloud, looking at his watch and then at Encke, who sat across the table from him in the middle of the busy food court. "They were supposed to meet us fifteen minutes ago."

"I bet you twenty credits they're doing some unspeakable deed in a dark corner somewhere," Encke mused, and stuffed his face with some more french fries.

"Ha! No bet," Abel giggled. "We'd be better off wagering on who did what to whom, and in what position."

Encke snorted a laugh, covering his mouth to keep the fries from going everywhere. Encke was cute when he was trying to be polite, Abel thought to himself. He was just about to elaborate on Cain and Keeler's seemingly insatiable sex drives, when Encke swiftly changed the subject.

"So..." Encke said, giving Abel an uncharacteristically nervous look.

"Hm?" Abel answered, raising an eyebrow.

"I was wondering... if you would like to go out with me sometime," Encke said, not quite making up his mind whether to look at Abel or his food.

"You mean like... a date?!" Abel asked. "Like, just the two of us?"

"Yes," Encke said with a gentle smile. "Just us."

"Oh, well. That sounds nice... what exactly did you have in mind?" he pried, resting his chin on his hands and gazing at Encke with exaggerated expectance.

"Well... I--"

"What _exactly_ are your intentions, Nathan?" Abel teased. It was all too fun to give Encke a hard time, this man who usually oozed confidence, and had his own inquisition room hidden away in their basement.

Encke laughed heartily, then reached across the table for Abel's hand. "My intentions, _Ethan,"_ he said, stroking his thumb across Abel's knuckles. "Are to get to know you better."

Abel felt the room get a few degrees warmer at the very seductive tone in Encke's voice. He liked it: this recently discovered Encke that flirted with him and did romantic things, always with the hint of something deliriously sexy lurking just underneath. "...Is that so?" was all Abel could manage to say.

"Mmm," Encke moaned in the affirmative. "Yes, I would like to get to know you... very. Very well."

Suddenly, Cain plopped down in the chair beside Abel, reaching for one of his french fries with a barely bleeding hand. "Cain?!" Abel scolded, pulling away from Encke and catching the hand as it was halfway to Cain's already-open mouth. "What happened?"

"Ummm... nothing?" Cain lied.

He pulled the hand closer and studied the red marks. "I know these teeth..." Abel said, squinting, then looked at Cain incredulously. "Did you-- did you bite _yourself?!"_

Cain grabbed the fries with his free hand, and stuffed them into his face, only answering Abel with a small shrug and a smirk. Panting quietly, Keeler sat in the chair opposite Cain, with an all too familiar flush in his cheeks, and a victorious smirk lurking underneath a Mona Lisa smile. 

After a momentary shock, Abel looked back at Encke, pressing his lips together to stifle a giggle. Encke bit his lip, but soon broke into hearty laughter as they wordlessly congratulated each other on being right. 

Cain glared at the two of them. "...The fuck is so funny?" he asked with a mouth full of fries.

"Oh... 'nothing'..." Encke answered, throwing Cain's words back at him with a knowing grin, and rewarding Abel with a suggestive wink.

 


	7. Silent Night, Holey Night

Abel wasn't quite sure what to do with his eyes as he followed Cain into Andromeda's Secret. He was too curious to look at the floor, but a bit too timid to gawk at the scantily-clad, and very female-shaped mannequins, whose boobs were hard to miss, even for him. Abel tried not to be too scandalized when Cain stopped in front of one and looked it up and down. He suddenly wondered if the store clerks kicked men out for looking too pervily at mannequins. But luckily the figure herself couldn't see, as she was sporting a very stylish black lace blindfold. 

Abel frowned as Cain studied the mannequin, and then looked over at him. Cain's eyes darted back and forth a few times, and then he opened his mouth to speak, but Abel stopped him short with a warning eyebrow. Cain pressed his lips together and spun around to continue his journey towards the back of the store. 

"I've never really understood what a galaxy has to do with underwear, anyway," Cain commented over the loud music as Abel caught up to him.

"Not the galaxy," Abel rolled his eyes. "The _girl."_  Cain turned around and looked at him questioningly. "You know, from Greek mythology?"

"Nope," Cain replied. "What was _her_ story?" he asked, as he ducked under a beaded curtain that led to a completely different part of the store. 

"Well, I can tell you she wouldn't have liked it here very much," Abel said, taking in the sight of all the male mannequins, each covered in buckles and cuffs and chains and leather. There was some lace in this part of the store as well, but not nearly as much. Abel just scurried behind Cain, wide-eyed and blushing, as they wandered over to some harnesses hanging on the wall. 

"Yeah? Why is that..." Cain asked, as he looked up discerningly at the highest row.

"Well, her parents chained her to a rocky cliff, so she could be sacrificed to a sea monster," Abel explained.

"Oh!" Cain made a concerned face at Abel. "Well by _sea monster_... do you mean...?"

"Nope. It wasn't sexy bondage, it was terrifying bondage," Abel said, wandering away to peruse a table full of men's underwear. Among the pile, he found a red pair designed to look like a Santa's hat, complete with a tag that said 'fuzzy balls not included.' He picked the item up to try and figure out exactly what that meant. He had just found an interesting hole in the crotch area of the panties when he heard an unfamiliar voice behind him. 

"Sacha!!! Oh my god, sweetie, how  _are_ you?!" 

"Hey, man! Good, how are you?" Cain replied with a chuckle. Abel whipped around just in time to see Cain and the blond stranger exchange a very friendly looking side-hug. He couldn't help it. He could handle Cain fooling around with Keeler, but then the girl mannequin, and now this? He flashed Cain a fiery 'what the fuck?!' glare.

"Oh! Uh..." Cain cleared his throat, briefly hiding his face under a fist. "Sorry... Matt, this is my, um, partner Ethan. Ethan, this is Matt. He works here."

Matt steepled his fingers over his mouth. "Oh my gosh,  _this_ is Ethan? I've heard so much about you!" he exclaimed, and rushed forward to hug Abel, too.

After getting a closer look, Abel was sure that Matt's blond hair was not natural. That wasn't usually a good reason to hate someone but Abel found himself willing to make an exception. "Uh... nice to meet you, too," he managed as the hug ended.

"So, you have to tell me," Matt said with a very friendly hand on Abel's shoulder, only pretending like Cain couldn't hear him just a few feet way. "How did that little black number work out for you?" he asked with a wicked gleam in his eye.

Abel's eyes went comically wide. "I -- I'm sorry?" he stammered, only vaguely aware of what Matt was referring to, but blushing all the same. 

_"You know!"_ Matt insisted. "That lacy outfit Sacha got for you. Did they fit okay?" he asked, looking Abel up and down as if he were still wearing them, as if he had _ever_ worn them. "Tch, but Sacha, honey, I hardly think that black is Ethan's color... Don't you think he would look better in a nice bold--?"

Abel stopped listening at that point, instead exchanging silent looks with Cain. Abel just grinned, while Cain pleadingly shook his head and gave him puppy dog eyes behind Matt's back. He didn't have the heart to tell Matt that the lingerie had been for Cain to wear. But it was still fun to make Cain sweat it.

_"Actually,_ Matt," Abel said finally, relishing in the look of horror on Cain's face before he finished his sentence. "We're shopping for a friend."

"Oh yes?" Matt suddenly looked very thoughtful.

Cain chimed in, clearing his throat again. "Yeah, I uh, wanted to get him this harness. But it looks like you don't have it in his size."

"Oh, that's too bad... I can check online to see if we can order it for you," Matt offered.

"Yeah, why don't you go do that," Abel suggested, a little ruder than he'd meant it to come out.

Cain's eyebrows shot up as Matt walked away. "Everything okay?"

"Just perfect,  _honey,"_ Abel said with a saccharin smile.

Cain just laughed, and came up close to him. "Oh, come on, he calls everybody that. But look at you, bein' all jealous," he teased, snaking his hands around Abel's waist.

"Shut up," Abel pouted.

"Well now you know how it feels," Cain said, and kissed him softly and sensuously on the lips. "How about we pick out something nice for me to wear, to make you feel better?" Abel looked sheepishly at the floor, and when he didn't respond, Cain jostled him a bit as if to shake him out of his mood. "Hmm?"

"Well..." Abel started.

"Yeeess??"

Abel smiled as his eyes landed on the red Santa panties.

 


	8. I wish I had a river I could skate away on

"Oh god, it's the hair guy," Keeler mumbled, glueing himself to Encke's side and putting a hand over his face.

"The... hair guy?" Encke asked, looking around for the person in question.

"Every time i come to the mall, he always tries to do a demonstration on my hair with one of those... fancy straighteners," Keeler explained as they carefully navigated the holiday crowd. "Don't let him see me."

Encke smiled, and pulled Keeler closer. "Don't worry baby, I'll protect you and your hair."

"Seriously!" Keeler laughed. "He's very... persistent..." 

Encke was pulled backwards as Keeler stopped in his tracks. He looked back to see Keeler entirely mesmerized by the large skating rink that had been installed in the middle of the mall. Eyes wide as saucers, he started pulling insistently on Encke's sleeve.

Encke glanced back and forth between the look on Keeler's face, and the rink. “Oh, no. No no no.”

“Oh come on! I've always wanted to go ice skating!”

“ _Elliott!”_ Encke complained. “Sacha got sex in the dressing room, and I get this? Uncomfortable, smelly rent skates and most likely a cold, wet ass?”

Keeler pursed his lips, looking at Encke thoughtfully. “I'll make it up to you. Please?” he said with puppy dog eyes.

Encke tilted his head. _“How_ are you gonna make it up to me?” he asked skeptically.

Keeler bit his lip as he leaned in close to Encke, grabbing him by the shirt, seductively licking his lips as he leaned in even further to whisper in the taller man's ear.

Encke's eyes went even wider than Keeler's had been a moment ago, and as he processed Keeler's words, he felt a bright blush begin to heat his cheeks.

“Okay let's go,” he said gruffly, and quickly led the giggling Keeler towards the skate rental kiosk.


	9. Gift of the Magi, Part 1

Eighteen credits and seventy cents. That was all. Praxis sighed as he looked at the small screen of his phone, glowing bright in the dimly-lit room just a few minutes before sunrise, and half an hour before his spouse would wake up beside him. Having effectively memorized the number, Praxis set the phone still glowing onto the bed and held his head in his hands.

While Praxis is preoccupied with his crisis, let us take a moment to peruse his surroundings. A modest efficiency apartment, furnished with a living room set that someone else had set out on the curb, after what were undoubtedly many good years of use and abuse by small children and large dogs. The kitchen was not big enough for two people, unless they were doing an incredibly provocative dance, and the appliances were at least twenty years old, though in appliance years they may as well have been a hundred. And upstairs in the loft, next to him in their cozy (read: tiny) bed, was tiny Deimos. Sound asleep, and for the moment blissfully unreminded, that this Christmas looked to be a very bleak Christmas indeed.

Praxis finally pulled himself together, and looked at his watch, to see how much more time he had to sulk about it until Deimos awoke. Inwardly he debated with himself about whether to discuss it with his husband or not. Perhaps he could just keep looking for work, though he'd been looking for months to no avail. Perhaps he should tell Deimos not to get him anything at all for Christmas... otherwise what could they do? Split the money between the two of them? And surely they couldn't both go without presents. Praxis just couldn't bring himself to allow that. He had made a vow to Deimos, "for richer or for poorer." And what better way to manifest that vow into action, than to provide Christmas presents to his husband whether they were rich or poor?

An almost dainty sneeze from beside him jolted Praxis out of his thoughts, and he realized he was still staring dumbly at his watch. The poor thing was old, an heirloom passed down from his father and his father's father, and all of them had taken shoddy care of it. The metal band was broken and would have come apart a while back, had Praxis not imaginatively repaired it with some duct tape. He knew someone else who owned such a watch, he remembered suddenly. Someone who could perhaps help him, if Praxis would only muster up the courage to ask.

Another sneeze, and Praxis once again found himself staring at his watch. He looked over at Deimos, and back at his timepiece, and with that he made up his mind. He shifted over to pull his husband into his arms, holding him close and placing soft kisses on his forehead, until it was time once again to face the cruel world outside.


	10. All I Want for Christmas is You, Part 2

_Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit._

Ethos cleared his throat, just to delay the inevitable, failing to get Bering's attention as the commander hunched over the sink rinsing dishes. He knew he had to be firm, _Ethos_ was the one in charge here, but Bering was intimidating, and... kind of hot. "Um, excuse me... Commander Bering," Ethos said, trying to sound as authoritative as possible.

"Yes?" Bering turned the faucet off and twisted to look at Ethos.

He swallowed hard. "Sir, I need to talk to you about the dishes," he said.

"Oh? Is there a problem?" Bering turned around and leaned against the counter, adjusting his long apron.

"Well... you see, sir," Ethos said, not quite looking at the older man. "The dishes aren't getting quite clean enough. There's still bits of food on the ones you've already washed." Bering scowled at him. "I- I'm going to need you to wash them all again."

Bering ran fingers through his salt and pepper hair. "Well I'm sorry, but I'm a military strategist, not a maid. I don't understand why you're washing all these dishes by hand, anyway!" he exclaimed, a rough Russian accent bleeding into his words in his agitation. "An operation this size should have a machine dishwasher."

"I told you, we _did_ have a dishwasher," Ethos snapped back, gesturing wildly in the direction of the appliance. "But it broke. And we can't afford to get a new one. This isn't an _operation,_ it's a charity. So for now, you're the dishwasher. And I need you to do it right! We're supposed to be helping people, not putting them in the hospital with FOOD POISONING!"

Bering looked a bit startled at the sudden outburst, and Ethos felt the tips of his ears go hot with embarrassment and pent up frustration. "I'm sorry," he stammered. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you."

"No, no... you're right. It's wasn't right of me to complain," Bering insisted.

"It's not even that." Ethos sighed, hoisting himself on top of the counter opposite Bering, and covering his face with his hands. "I just haven't been myself lately. I found out my boyfriend isn't coming home for Christmas. And I haven't seen him since... Ugh!" Ethos couldn't even finish his sentence, instead just sighing miserably.

Bering sighed sympathetically. "He still in the service?"

"Yeah. Porthos... you might remember him from the Sleipnir..."

"Vaguely..." Bering answered, thinking for a moment. "That big Navi' with the mohawk?"

Ethos snorted a laugh. "Yep that's the one! He's a captain now," he beamed. "Got his own ship."

 _"Really?"_ Bering chuckled with delight and crossed his arms, settling against the counter. "What class?"

"A destroyer. The Rapier," Ethos said. "They're at Killix."

"Ah, yes." The commander nodded gravely. "'The Colterons' last stand'. They're putting up quite the fight aren't they?"

"An eight-month seige," Ethos moaned. He could feel his voice start to crack. "And practically everyone else is back home already. I just... I really expected him to be home for Christmas, too. I've been looking forward to it all year! It's the only thing that's kept me sane this whole time!" Ethos tried very surreptitiously to wipe the tear out of his eye, determined not to cry in front of the commander.

Bering was scowling again. Certain he couldn't handle a lecture about being a weak navigator, Ethos quickly excused himself. "I'm... I'm sorry. I'll just take a break and calm down. Please rewash those dishes," he said, grabbing his phone and rushing to his small office.

 

As such, he missed the moment when Bering's scowl turned into a contemplative gaze, and he reached into his pocket for his own phone. He wasn't supposed to use it while serving his community service sentence, but who was gonna know? He glanced around to make sure no one was looking, and hurriedly typed a text message and sent it off before going back to his work.

 


	11. Gift of the Magi, Part 2

Praxis wandered through the long hallway of the municipal building, checking each plaque next to each door, until he finally found the one that read 'Assistant City Manager'. He took a deep breath. He'd promised himself that he would save this option as a last resort, after he exhausted all other resources. He wasn't sure how it would affect him, to see someone that he'd once cared about so deeply. 

The door was open, so he peeked his good eye in and tapped softly on the frame. 

"Praxis!" Abel exclaimed, jumping up from his big office chair to greet him.

"I'm not disturbing you am I?" 

"Not at all! Come in! Oh, I'm sorry I've forgotten your real name--"

"Martin," Praxis answered as they shook hands. And somewhere in the back of his mind, Praxis realized it was the first time that he'd actually touched Abel.

"Right, Martin. Please sit down," Abel offered, gesturing at a chair on the other side of his desk. "What can I do for you?" he asked, as he walked around to flop back down in his own seat.

"Well, Ethan," Praxis admitted, folding his hands nervously in his lap. "I'm here to ask for a favor. Aleks and I have been really down on our luck lately, and I haven't been able to find work... because of my eye." And from the look Abel gave him in response, Praxis already knew what the answer was going to be to his yet-unspoken question. "Do you think you could help me get a job with the city?"

"Martin..." Abel answered sorrowfully. "I would love to help you. And I say that to everyone who comes in, but I really mean it. You and Aleks mean a lot to us," he said in earnest.

Praxis just looked down at the ground. He'd heard it all before. "But...?"

"But..." Abel conceded. "I have a lot of people coming in looking for work every day. And I have to turn most of them away, unless they have pretty advanced skills. Everybody seems to want a government job. So, unless you're an engineer, or can work with advanced computer systems and A.I., then... I can't help you," Abel said with a sigh, his black eyes as wide and as full of compassion as ever. "It wouldn't be fair to make an exception just because we're friends. I'm sorry."

Praxis just nodded, still staring at the ground, the anger and frustration rising up inside him pointed at no one in particular. 

"I saw that kind of corruption a lot in politics back on Earth," Abel explained. "And I'm trying to make a difference here in the colonies. Unfortunately..." Abel stiffly shook his head at his desk. "I have a very high set of ideals, and if I expect other people to adhere to them, then I have to as well."

"Well, that's all well and good, Ethan," Praxis said coldly as he glanced at the other man. "But none of us can feed our families with ideals."

That seemed to stop Abel in his tracks, and there were a few tense moments of silence between the two of them, Abel looking a bit hurt, and Praxis feeling absolutely numb. Luckily the phone rang out of nowhere to rescue them both.

"Excuse me for a second..." Abel said before picking up. "This is Ethan.... Oh! Clarence!"

Abel's eyes went wide as he looked over at Praxis, concerned. "... _Who?_ ...Oh my god, are you okay? ...Are you okay to be there alone with him?" he asked sternly.  "Okay. I have an idea. Hold on Clarence..."

Abel pressed a button on the phone and turned back to Praxis. He looked like he was about to be sick.  _"Commander Bering_ is serving a community service sentence at Ethos's soup kitchen."

"Shit!" Praxis exclaimed, nearly leaping out of his chair.

"Yeah," Abel concurred through gritted teeth. "Listen. Tell you what. I will personally pay you to go down there and help at the soup kitchen, and keep an eye on Bering."

"Alright..." Praxis reluctantly agreed. "But how much are you going to pay me to put up with that asshole--"

"--Time and a half," Abel answered before Praxis could finish his sentence. 

"Okay, when do I start?" 

"Right now," Abel insisted. "I would go with you to make sure Ethos is okay, but..." Abel sighed. "I'm just not ready to face _him_ yet."

Praxis nodded and rushed towards the door, ready to go over to the soup kitchen and punch Bering in the face for what he'd done to Abel. "I understand. Thank you for everything--"

"--Oh and Martin?" Abel called. Praxis halted and turned back to look at him.

Abel rubbed his chin for a moment, thoughtful. "Why don't you and Aleks come to our house for Christmas dinner?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh... I accidentally snuck some serious stuff into the cute... eek!  
> Just pretend that time and a half actually means something, because I didn't want to have to figure out how much Abel would actually pay him and then adjust for whatever possible inflation would affect the fictitious currency I've created. We'll say that the colonies have a very generous minimum wage and Abel is offering to pay Praxis 1.5 times that rate, as if he were working overtime.


	12. Text of the Magi, Part 3

**Abel:** i invited Martin and Alex over for Christmas dinner. I hope that's ok.  
 **Cain:** wtf? u were talking to Praxis???   
 **Abel:** he came by my office looking for work  
 **Cain:** what did u tell him?   
 **Abel:** i'm paying him to work at the soup kitchen for Ethos.   
 **Cain:** weird  
 **Abel:** ....  
 **Abel:** is it ok if they come to dinner or not?  
 **Cain:** i guess... its xmas   
 **Abel:** wait how do you know it was Martin i talked to?  
 **Cain:**  out with D rn shopping  
 **Abel:** Aleks is with you?  
 **Cain:** yep   
 **Abel:** what are you shopping for?  
 **Cain:**  none of ur business  >:D   
 **Abel:** :(  
 **Cain:** nope. ur interrogation tactics will not work on me   
 **Abel:** ;~;  
 **Cain:**  Task name Cain, 2nd LT. F-12154703    
 **Abel:** fine  
 **Cain:**  fine? shit. im in trouble   
 **Abel:** you bet your ass you are  
 **Cain:**  w/e u already own my ass   
 **Abel:** fine :P

 

* * *

 

 **Deimos:**  u will not believe who i just saw   
 **Praxis:**  who?    
 ** **Deimos** :** it was Cook o.O  
 ** **Praxis** :** shit. that's wierd...    
 ** **Deimos** :** why?    
 **Deimos:**??????  
 **Praxis:**  nm. where did u see him?    
 ** **Deimos** :** at the jewelry store. he was looking at rings.  
 ** **Deimos** :** he was so rude. on the phone the whole time the girl was trying to help him.  
 ** **Praxis** :** you're at the jewelry store?   
 ** **Deimos** :** ...maybe?    
 ** **Praxis** :** what are you doing there?   
 ** **Deimos** :** ummmm...   
 ** **Praxis** : **were you looking at rings too? lol  
 ** **Deimos** :** ....nnoooo?   
 ** **Praxis** : **why are you being weird? I know you're just shopping for my present, silly.  
 ** ** **Deimos**** :** might not be >.>  
 **Deimos:** so we're going to the den of iniquity for Christmas dinner?  
 ** ** ** **Praxis****** : **we're still calling it that? did Sacha call you?  
 ** ** ** **Deimos****** :** no he's here with me   
 ** ** ** **Praxis****** : **oh. why didn't u say so before?  
 ** ** ** ** **Deimos******** :** cuz i didn't want u to make a big deal?  
 ** ** ** ** **Praxis******** : **is it a big deal?  
 ** ** ** ** **Deimos******** :** no. is going to Abel to ask for work behind my back a big deal?  
 ** ** ** ** **Praxis******** : **touche.   
 ** ** ** ** **Praxis********** : I love you.  
 ** ** ** ** **Deimos********** : I love you too.  
 ** ** ** ** **Praxis********** : i didn't know you knew about Abel.  
 ** ** ** ** **Deimos********** : well i did. i knew before we were together.  
 ** ** ** ** **Praxis********** : oh.   
 ** ** ** ** **Deimos********** : whatever. they deserve each other :)  
 ** ** ** ** **Praxis********** : haha true :) 

 

* * *

 

 **Cain:**  i love you?   
 **Abel:**  still in trouble  
 **Cain:**  ....  
 **Cain:**  ok im shopping for something for you  
 **Abel:**  oh! why didn't you say so?  
 **Cain:**  cuz its supposed to be a surprise  
 **Abel:**  i thought u did all your shopping last week  
 **Cain:**  i had one more thing i wanted to get you  
 **Abel:**  oh! <3 <3 <3  
 **Cain:**  yeah, yeah <3  
 **Abel:**  btw... Bering is serving his sentence at the soup kitchen >.<  
 **Cain:**  so that's why u sent Praxis over there  
 **Abel:**  yeah  
 **Cain:**  he's not dangerous  
 **Cain:**  he's not gonna do anything  
 **Abel:**  i know, but... ugh...  
 **Cain:**  im sorry baby  
 **Abel:**  he should be in military prison  
 **Cain:**  then so should i  
 **Abel:**  no, that's completely different  
 **Cain:**  whatever. it's different because you want it to be  
 **Abel:**  we should probably talk about this later   
 **Cain:**  fine

 

* * *

 

 **Deimos:**  Sacha says not to tell Ethan we saw Cook. he's already upset about Bering.  
 **Praxis:**  oh.    
 ** **Deimos** :** Sacha says don't tell Ethan we were at the jewelry store either  
 ** **Praxis** :** i don't even talk to Ethan. why would i tell him anything?  
 ** **Deimos** :** just... don't say anything   
 **Praxis:**  fine. you two are weird.


	13. You're a Mean One

"Were you able to do what I asked?"

Bering sat in the dark in his office, finalizing the first stage of his plan in hushed whispers into the phone in the dead of night, as he browsed on his tablet for options for the second stage. 

 _"Yes, Commander. Everything has been arranged,"_ the voice on the other end replied.

"Good. And the uh, package will arrive on the twenty-fourth as planned?" Bering asked.

_"Yes, sir. We have procured a Jumper ship just for this purpose."_

"Excellent. Let me know if any complications arise--" Bering's heart leapt into his throat as he looked up, and saw the silhouette of a curvy young woman leaning in the doorway. 

 _"Of course, sir. I will be in t--_ " 

Bering quickly shut off the call, even though he knew it was too late, since the silhouette was already storming away in a huff and running back up the stairs, her black sheer nightgown billowing behind her as if blown by some raging wind.

"Anya! Wait!!!" Bering called out, jumping up and chasing after her through the pitch black house. He followed her up the stairs, down the hall to the bedroom, where she almost too swiftly pulled a suitcase out of the closet, like it was something she had been planning to do for a long time. "Anya. Please, don't go. Just listen!"

"Oh, I'm not going anywhere. I'm packing for you!" Anya said nastily as she opened a drawer and started stuffing the contents haphazardly into the suitcase. 

Bering came around the bed and grabbed at her shoulders, just to get her to be still. If he could just explain... "Sweetheart, please listen to me--"

"No!" Anya shouted, pulling away from him to throw a pile of underwear into the suitcase. "I'm done listening! You _promised_ me," she almost sobbed. "You promised me there would be no more scheming! No more shady deals... you LIED!"

"Anya. Please," he begged, wondering if there was anyone that wasn't going to yell at him today. "You're the only one I have left--"

 _"Stop it,"_ Anya hissed, finally looking him in the eyes. "I never meant _anything_ to you. This was always just a, what do they call it... a marriage of convenience! So you could get in good with my father. And I could live with that. I could be okay with that as long as you were a good man." Anya shook her head violently, tears running down her cheeks. Her voice was hardly anything at all. "But you're not a good man.  You're just a heartless, _pyedik_ son-of-a-bitch who's never gonna change. And now I will look like a fool in front of everyone," she said hoarsely through her sobs, and went back to throwing some of Bering's shirts and trousers into the case. "But that's fine... It's fine!" she declared, bitterly optimistic. "I'm young, and I have a good lawyer that you don't know about, and a bank account you don't know about, and I can start over now. Without you..."

Bering just stood there stunned, all the feeling falling out of his body and onto the floor, like sand sifts out of an hourglass.  "Anya, I was just trying to--"

 _"Get out of my house,"_ Anya practically growled at him, and shoved the suitcase half empty into Bering's pounding chest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh I'm getting ahead of myself now... Jumper ships were something I was going to introduce in Riven (the sequel to Divided that is basically Taken in space with gay guys). Just because Hamlet hasn't told us much about how space travel works so I had to make up my own explanations. So, in my stories, there will be three ways of traveling long distances in space. There are warpgates, which are these ginormous structures that are at either end of a wormhole. They are inspired by the warp gates in the EVE video game. And then there are Jumpers, which are a fairly new technology in Cain and Abel's time. They are mid-sized ships that are able to create their own wormhole to travel through. They are also very expensive so pretty much only the military have access to them. Siren's ship, for example, the Shroud, is a Jumper. The other kind of mid-sized ship is a Runner, which is just a ship that is able to go really really fast. So that's your third option. Just go really really fast.


	14. It's a Wonderful Life

"What are you watchin'?" Abel asked as he came into the living room, looking quite comfortable and warm in a long sleeved t shirt and some sweatpants. 

"Oh, just some old movie," Encke answered, smiling as the little blond padded in bare feet over to the couch and snuggled into his lap. "It's so old, it's in black and white, and it doesn't have any of those BBWHAAAAA noises in the soundtrack..."

"Oh, _It's a Wonderful Life!"_ Abel exclaimed. "'You like every boy' ... 'What's wrong with that?'" Abel quoted, imitating the two girls' accents.

"Haha, I can see why you like it," Encke chuckled.

"Hey!" Abel protested, poking Encke in the ribs. "I happen to only like three boys, thank you very much," he said with an air of mock-superiority.

Encke pressed his lips together to keep from looking too pleased with himself. "Am I one of them?" he teased.

"Tch! Of course!" Abel answered, leaning down to give the bigger man an eskimo kiss, letting his nose linger there, pressed against Encke's, soft and slightly cold. Encke tilted his head up slightly, just opening his mouth and inviting Abel to kiss him, grunting quietly when the blond did, slowly sucking on Encke's bottom lip and making his breath catch in his lungs. Abel made his own slightly strangled noise, something in between a moan and a whimper, as Encke let a strong hand wander over Abel's thigh. But then Abel startled, pulling away with a gasp and a smack of lips.

"You know what I just realized?" Abel said, grabbing Encke's shoulders with urgency.

Encke smiled, amused at Abel's lack of attention span. "...What?" he said softly.

"I think I have this movie on disk. We could watch it without the commercials coming on every five minutes."

"Hmm... that's true..." Encke admitted, even as he pulled Abel further into his lap and kissed his jaw. 

"Mmm..." Abel made a lazy, whiney noise as his mouth found Encke's again. "But... that would require... getting up off the couch," he said in between kisses.

"Mm hmm..." Encke wordlessly agreed.

"And... this way we can... make out during the... commercial breaks..." 

"My thoughts exactly," Encke said huskily, as he pulled Abel forward, encouraging the blond to straddle his lap. He tangled his fingers into Abel's hair and pulled him down for another breathtaking kiss, squeezing the blond's ass before running his fingers over the ticklish part of his hip.

Abel gasped as Encke palmed at his erection through his sweatpants. "O-or..." he stammered. "We could just... mm... go upstairs?"

"No," Encke answered, his voice quiet but authoritative. "I want to take you right here. Just like this."

Abel bit his lip, his cheeks stained with a very rosy shade of pink. "Well in that case... there's a bottle of lube under that cushion," he whispered, pointing down.

Encke quirked an eyebrow as he reached into the couch, and sure enough, his hand found a fairly large plastic bottle. "Really?" he laughed. "So that's why I was so uncomfortable sitting here!"

Abel giggled, chewing on his lip again as he worked at the fly of Encke's jeans. 

 


	15. Baby It's Cold Outside

Abel was half asleep with his head rested in Encke's lap, when Cain came storming into the living room, wearing nicer clothes than Encke had seen him in in a while, brooding as he began rummaging through the coat closet by the door. Encke watched him tie a scarf around his neck and put one arm in his coat before he asked the obvious question.

"Where are you going?" Though he already sensed from Cain's mood that he didn't want to answer. Which was precisely why Encke needed to know. It had long since been decided that in order for the four-way relationship to work, someone had to be in charge of getting Cain to talk about his feelings, even if it meant tying him up and sexing him stupid until he was too fucked to bottle anything inside.

"Out. I'll be back in a few hours." Cain avoided looking at him as he said it, just kept getting dressed, pulling a pair of black gloves out of his coat once he got it all the way on.

 _"Sobachka,"_ Encke snapped, invoking the name he used for him in the dungeon, and Cain stopped everything, turning to face him with wide eyes. Abel stirred in Encke's lap at the noise. "You look me in the eye when I ask you a question," he said flatly.

Cain was silent for a moment, completely still but Encke could still see him warring with his thoughts. "I'm going out," he repeated, holding Encke's gaze, even as he still refused to give him a straight answer. 

"It's late. It's in the single digits outside, and it's Christmas Eve. Where could you _possibly_ be going?" Encke asked sternly. Cain's eyes dropped briefly to the ground before looking back up, but he didn't say anything.

"'Scuse me, little one," Encke huffed, scooping Abel out of his lap and rising to meet Cain in the entryway. Cain glared as he approached, but Encke wasn't about to back down. He didn't usually put on the Dom act outside of the dungeon, but he knew Cain well enough to know when something was weird. "What's up with you?" he said quietly, his tone wavering between concern and annoyance. 

Cain's features softened even as his forehead wrinkled with worry. "Nothing... Get off my case, I don't have to tell you where I'm going--"

"You're absolutely right, you don't. But you do have to tell me what's bothering you," Encke pressed, leaning with one hand on the wall next to Cain's head. 

Sighing, Cain realized he couldn't really explain one without the other. "I'm just... dude, I'm just going to church," he said with a helpless shrug.

Encke blinked, taking a moment to process the statement. "Well... why didn't you just say so?!"

"Because? I didn't want anybody to give me shit about it?" Cain said defensively. And there it was.

"Baby, nobody's gonna give you shit about it. Hell, did it ever occur to you that some of us might want to go _with you?!"_

Cain's eyes darted from side to side. "No? Do you...? You want to come?"

"Yeah," Encke insisted. "Do I have time? Can I clean up and get dressed?"

"Sure, but... hurry!" Cain had to call out to Encke because he was already rushing away. 

He watched Encke bound up the stairs, avoiding making eye contact with Abel for a few moments at least. Finally Cain made a shy glance in that direction. "Hey, Princess," he mumbled.

"Hey. I, um... I didn't know you went to church," Abel said.

"I don't, usually," Cain answered, going over to the arm of the sofa that Abel was leaning on. "I haven't been in a while, so... I figured I should go. You can come too if you want--"

"No, that's okay," Abel said with an uncertain smile. "But, I hope that you... have... a nice... spiritual experience, or, whatever one is supposed to say to be supportive."

"Thanks..." Cain smiled back, beaming with pride as he wondered why he'd ever doubted Abel to begin with. He gave Abel a long, admiring look, not missing at all how flushed his cheeks were, how his hair was even more untamed than usual. He sniffed the air. "You smell like sex."

"W-What?" Abel stammered.

Cain snorted. "Here it is, Christmas Eve, and you're being so naughty!" he teased, biting his lip as he mussed up Abel's hair even more. 

"Oooo," Abel giggled. "Are you gonna punish me?" 

He thought for a moment, a contemplative finger over his lips. He  _had_ been planning on having some alone time with Abel that evening, but Abel didn't need to know that. "Mmm, I think some penance will be in order. You better be in my room, thinking about what you've done when I get back," he said with a devilish grin, as Abel reached for his hand and laced their fingers together.

"I'm sure I'll find some way to make it up to you," Abel simpered, as Encke came stomping down the stairs in a button-down shirt and nice slacks, tie untied and hanging around his neck. Abel laughed as Encke grabbed his coat and threw it on. "Well there's one thing I like about this church thing, and it's seeing you two all gussied up!"

"We'll be back later," Cain promised, leaning down to give Abel a short kiss on the lips before he pulled away from Abel's hand and rushed to the door. Encke just passed by with a wink and a smirk and Abel scowled. 

"Hey!" he barked, and Encke stopped in his tracks and craned his head around. "I didn't take you for the love 'em and leave 'em type, Nathan," Abel said, imitating a very disappointed school teacher.

"Sorry, baby," Encke said as he walked back over, and bid farewell to Abel with his own slightly longer kiss. "You were amazing by the way," he murmured with his lips brushing against Abel's cheek, giving him one last peck before he left him there, blushing. 

Cain watched this exchange with a sort of intense boredom, rolling his eyes as he turned around and headed out the door. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sobachka is apparently an affectionate way of saying the word 'dog' in Russian. I just couldn't really imagine Cain answering to "slave" or "boy" or something like that with BDSM play, so I took it in a different direction.  
> Also I think this chapter is my first attempt at doing so many povs in one chapter so i hope it's ok!


	16. O Come All Ye Faithful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> or "Abel and Keeler are heathen dorks."

"Okay, so then, a cup of sugar..." Keeler mumbled to himself, concentrating hard on a pie recipe he'd copied from his grandmother's old handwritten notes onto his tablet. He was quite nervous, since he was attempting to make it for the first time.

His thoughts were interupted by two warm arms wrapping around his middle. "Hi, Ethan," Keeler said without looking, smiling since he knew Abel always liked to 'help' with the baking. Although 'helping' usually just meant licking spoons that had been used to stir cake batter, or stealing nibbles of cookie dough.

 _“Oh, Elliott,"_ Abel moaned dramatically with his chin on Keeler's shoulder. "This red and green sweater is just... _really_ doing it for me...”

“Really? You really like it?" Keeler asked, incredulous as he poured some sugar into a measuring cup. "My parents sent it to me.”

“Yeah. It's soooo sexy," Abel answered, and broke into a fit of giggles.

Keeler frowned poutily as he realized Abel was just being sarcastic. “Shut up."

“No no!" Abel insisted, running his hands all over Keeler's stomach. "It's making me want to, mmmm...”

“What?" Keeler breathed, reaching back with one hand to pull Abel against his back.

“It's making me want to take it off.”

"Tch!" Keeler set the measuring cup on the counter with an angry clank, and spun around in Abel's arms to face him. “Fuck you!”

The other blond just giggled some more as he pulled Keeler closer. “Well that _was_ the general idea..." he said in the instant before their mouths met. Keeler moaned into the kiss as Abel's hands slid under the sweater and the shirt underneath, caressing Keeler's skin with soft, nimble hands. "But seriously," Abel said as he pulled the sweater off of Keeler's stomach. "Take it off...”

Keeler complied, too turned on to remember to be mad any longer, and Abel had a mouth pressed to Keeler's nipple and a hand pressed to his crotch even before the sweater hit the floor. His heart leapt in his chest he realized Abel intended to get him off right there in the middle of the kitchen. “Where... where are Nate and Sacha?” he stammered, wondering what the chances were of them being interrupted.

“Oh, they went to church...” Abel answered quickly, before smashing his and Keeler's mouths together again, kissing Keeler in that way of his that was soft but somehow desperate and demanding all the same.

Keeler hummed in delight as Abel leaned over to nibble on his ear. "Left the heathens to... fend for ourselves, eh?”

“Yeah," Abel answered against his neck, as he traced the contours of Keeler's chest with his fingers. "But I was also planning on spending some time on my knees.”

“Oh?”

Abel didn't say anything else, just looked into Keeler's eyes as he knelt on the kitchen floor. He grabbed Keeler by the ass and pulled him forward, pressing a hot mouth over Keeler's erection, teasing him through his jeans. Keeler held on to the counter behind him for dear life and threw his head back, hair flying everywhere, his hips jerking forward slightly of their own accord.

Abel chuckled as he unbuttoned Keeler's fly. "Oh come, all ye faithful...” he half-sang, half-giggled.

Keeler tried to hold back a snicker and failed. “God, Ethan you're such a dork.”

“OH! Did you know," Abel said with way too much enthusiasm, as he pulled Keeler's cock out of his underwear. "That dork is actually a word for penis?”

“Well in that case, suck my dork, dork," Keeler demanded playfully. Abel took no time at all to obey, humming as he worked his lips up and down the shaft of Keeler's cock. "Oh, yes, baby, just like that..." he breathlessly encouraged, closing his eyes and twisting his fingers into Abel's hair. "Good to know there's some use for your mouth other than blasphemies and double entendres.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are way to many Christmas songs that have the word come in them. Sorry/not sorry.


	17. Et in terra pax hominibus bonae voluntatis

Encke followed Cain through the front door of the church, watching as the other man pulled his hat off his head and shook his fingers through his hair to puff it back out. Encke pulled his own hat off, too, as his eyes wandered across the foyer. He felt a hand squeeze his arm as he surveyed the intricate decorations and works of art that surrounded them. He turned to look at Cain, who was now tugging on his sleeve.

"Have you ever been to a church like this before?" Cain asked quietly.

"Um... no? I was raised Methodist," Encke answered, raising a confused eyebrow.

Cain suddenly had a very serious, determined look on his face. "Okay, just do what I do, okay?"

Encke followed as Cain approached a fountain in the middle of the room, the basin of which was made up of colorful mosaic tiles. He watched as Cain gingerly dipped his fingers into the water, and drew a cross over himself, slowly going through the motions so Encke could follow. 

Encke nodded in understanding, and dipped his own fingers in the water, crossing himself and looking for Cain's approval, for once, to make sure he'd done it correctly. Cain nodded back, and gestured with his head towards the doors that led to the sanctuary.

He followed Cain down the carpeted aisle and over to one of the pews, almost too distracted by the beauty of the sanctuary to pay attention, as Cain knelt on one knee at the end of the pew and drew a cross over himself again. Encke tried to imitate the motion, feeling incredibly self conscious about it, even though he reasoned that likely no one was paying attention to him. Cain seemed to be waiting for him in the middle of the pew, and as Encke sat next to him, he reached down, and pulled a small cushioned platform out from the bottom of the pew, and moved forward to rest his knees on it.

Encke followed suit, kneeling there beside Cain for a few moments and still feeling very confused. Nothing really seemed to be happening, but he still felt like there was something he was supposed to be doing. He wasn't used to church being this complicated. "Um... Sacha?" he whispered.

"Hm?"

"What... are we doing?"

"We're praying," Cain answered quietly.

"Oh. What are we supposed to pray about? -- Sorry," he added, realizing that perhaps he was just being a pest now with all of his questions.

Cain gave him a worried look out of the corner of his eye, and reached out for Encke's hand. "It's fine, just... whatever you feel like praying about," he said patiently. "Or you don't have to at all if you don't want..."

Encke realized he could think of a lot of things. He closed his eyes and squeezed Cain's hand, and thought about each of his three housemates, hoping that the four of them would have at least another happy year together until next Christmas. He gave thanks that all of them had come home relatively unscathed from the war, and he prayed that the war would end soon, so that the rest of the Alliance troops could come home, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title translates to "peace on Earth to men of good will". It kind of makes me wonder if/how this will change when people live in space.


	18. Santa Baby

There was always something so thrilling about kissing Commander Cook, even as many times as Phobos had done it. He could remember the first time even now, how sudden it had been, the tiny whimper of shock that had escaped his throat, as the older man pushed him against the desk in his office all those many years and light-years ago. His hand had slipped on a glass tablet, causing him to slide backward and knock the tablet on the ground, and Cook had caught him in the nick of time, leaning down to press his mouth to Phobos's throat as the younger man hung precariously in his arms. 

But this was even better, sitting on Cook's soft, suede leather sofa, jazzy Christmas music playing in the background, the flicker and heat of the fireplace dancing on his face, and Cook's lips tasting like expensive brandy. Phobos flirtatiously nipped at them, growling at Cook with all the ferocity of a playful kitten. Cook hummed lazily into the kiss before he pulled away, and gave Phobos a familiar look.

"What?" he asked with mock annoyance, barely rolling his eyes.

"What? I didn't say anything..." Cook protested innocently.

 _"Elias,_ you have that look on your face. You know, the one you always get right before you ask me to do something?"

Cook scoffed. "I most certainly do not have a  _look._ _"_

"Oh, you most certainly  _do,"_ Phobos teased, leaning in to squeeze Cook's thigh, just because he could. 

"Fine," the older man sighed. "I was just going to ask you to refill my glass." He shrugged, holding it up and shaking it, to rattle the few remaining pieces of ice. "If you don't mind, darling."

Phobos did his best to look unimpressed. "And what's in it for me?" 

Cook pondered, two delicate fingers touched to his lips, and Phobos wondered if he sucked on them if they would taste like brandy, too. "I shall tell you a secret upon your return."

"Oh!" Phobos gasped, taking the glass immediately from Cook's hand. "Well then _I,_ will be right back," he said with a smile, giving the commander one last kiss as he lifted himself off the sofa.

He hummed along with the music as he sauntered into the kitchen, letting his hips sway back and forth in time with the music once he stopped in front of the ice dispenser.

 _"Come and trim my Christmas tree_  
 _With some decorations bought at Tiffany's;_  
 _I really do believe in you;_  
 _Let's see if you believe in me..."_  
  
Phobos got the bottle of brandy open, refilling Cook's glass generously as he continued to sing and dance in place.

_"Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing... A ring..._  
 _I don't mean on the phone; Santa baby,_  
 _And hurry down the chimney tonigh--!"_

Phobos stopped dead in his tracks as he turned the corner back into the living room, nearly dropping the full glass of brandy in his hand at the sight, of Cook kneeling on one knee, with a black velvet box in his hand, open and sparkling on the inside. "Oh my god!" was all he managed to squeak out.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting for that song to come on..." Cook laughed, rolling his eyes, and Phobos laughed nervously with him, trying very hard not to faint. "Remy, my love... I don't what I would do without you. Would you marry me?" 

"Oh..." Phobos could hardly breathe he was in such shock, so it took him a moment to articulate an answer. "Yes! Yes, of course!" 

Cook lifted to his feet, and traded the ring box for his glass of brandy, before bringing Phobos forward for a deep kiss. "Oh, darling you've made me _so_ happy..." he whispered against Phobos's lips. 

Phobos wasted no time getting the ring out. "Oh! Is it white gold?" he asked, judging from the silver color. 

"Platinum, of course," Cook corrected him, as if it should have been obvious. "I woudn't get anything less than the best for my Remy."

"Well, put it on me, put it on me!" he demanded excitedly. "Was... was this the secret?!" 

"Oh, no!" Cook snorted as he slid the ring onto Phobos's finger. "The secret is..."

"Mmhmm?" Phobos leaned in, slightly tipsy and overly interested. 

Cook leaned in, too and whispered hot into Phobos's ear, affectionately tucking a loose strand of hair behind it. "Your friend Porthos is back in town." 


	19. All I Want for Christmas is You, Part 3

"You look...." 

Ethos had a hard time finishing his sentence, studying Bering's ragged, exhausted appearance as the commander stood at the kitchen sink. His clothes had a certain... slept in look, and from the way Bering was hunched over, it looked like he'd slept in his car.

"Like shit? Yeah..." Bering sighed. "Didn't get much sleep last night," he grumbled in his rough colonial accent. 

"Oh..." Ethos's brow furrowed with worry. "Is everything okay--?"

"Clarence." The voice behind him made the hair on the back of Ethos's neck stand up, his heart going silent in his chest with its familiar-yet-unfamiliarity. He wanted to turn around so badly, with every fiber of his being, so much that he found he couldn't move at all. instead he just stood there dumbstruck, wide eyes looking at Bering as the older man looked past him and let a tiny smirk turn up the corner of his mouth. 

Finally he found the strength to slowly turn his head, dreading that it wouldn't be who he desperately knew that it was, even as Porthos came into view, all smiles and staggering height. Ethos only took one step and Porthos was right there too meet him, lifting the smaller blond into his arms and squeezing him until he couldn't breathe. But who needed air? Porthos was back, and that was all that Ethos needed.

 _"How are you here?"_ Ethos said into the soft fabric of Porthos's sweatshirt, just suffocating himself in the warmth and the smell of it to make sure that Porthos was real. 

"I'm... actually not sure," Porthos admitted. "I just got orders to get on a ship, and come back to Mars, and pick up a parcel and bring it to you here on Christmas Eve."

"A parcel?!" Ethos pulled away, looking the tall blond in the eyes. 

"Yeah... it's outside. It looks like it has a new dishwasher in it? That's what the crate says, anyway..." Porthos shrugged, looking mightily confused... but for Ethos everything was suddenly crystal clear. 

He turned and looked at Bering, who was doing his best to inconspicuously wash dishes and give the couple some privacy. "Commander?" 

"Hmm?" Bering turned and looked at him with almost guilty eyes, like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar or putting on their mother's make-up.

"This was you, wasn't it? You did this," Ethos asserted.

"Maybe I did... maybe I didn't," Bering said with a dismissive shrug. "Now are you going to bring that thing in here so we can install it and I can't stop washing these stupid dishes?"

"In a minute..." Ethos said, his thoughts suddenly turning elsewhere. "But first," he said, looking back at his boyfriend. "Dean, there's, um, something... I need to show you. In my office. It's very important--"

Porthos just laughed as Ethos grabbed him by the hand and pulled him out of the room.

 


	20. I Saw Daddy Kissing Santa Claus

Cain leaned against the front door once it was closed, grabbing at the back of Encke's coat in the dark entryway to keep him there. Pulled him down by his tie, since Cain would never be one to lean up on his tiptoes to kiss. He wanted to thank Encke for going with him, not that he would ever tell Encke that, and besides, he figured he should get in one last kiss... or at least their last kiss until...

"I'm going to do it tonight," he said softly, as Encke leaned in to press their foreheads together.

"Yeah? That's great..." Encke smiled. "You nervous?"

Cain snorted. "Fuck yeah."

"It'll be fine. Don't sweat it," Encke said, wrapping his strong arms around Cain's waist. "You know what I said before--"

"Mmhm," Cain said, as they shared another one last kiss. And another... and another...

  

He ran into Keeler on the landing of the stairs on his way up. Keeler just clapped his hand on Cain's shoulder and gave him the look of a spy meeting with another spy to exchange forbidden secrets. "Abel's trying to run the gauntlet tonight," the blond whispered. 

 _"Seriously?!_ You fucked him too?!" Cain whisper-shouted back. 

Keeler nodded smugly and walked away, waggling his brows as he gazed at Cain out of the corner of his eye.

 

* * *

 

Abel straddled Cain as he laid on his stomach on the bed, carefully holding the warm bottle of oil upright, as he bent down and kissed at Cain's hair, his neck, his shoulder blades. Then he leaned back, tipping over the bottle and dribbling the oil into squiggly lines on his lover's back. Cain moaned in approval, and it made Abel smile, still quite pleased with himself and the idea. He glided his hands over Cain's skin, spreading the oil out all over and caressing the muscles underneath.

"Relax, baby," Abel said sofly, and Cain let out a muffled grunt into the pillow, that Abel barely heard over the music he'd selected to enhance the sexy mood. He kneaded his fingers into Cain's flesh, appreciating every curve and every angle as his hands found them one by one, the sharp ridges of his spine and the soft contours of his ribs. He leaned back to make sure Cain's ass got some attention, too. Every relaxing moan that escaped Cain's throat made Abel's heart swell with happiness. Even he found it relaxing; Abel was sure he could do this for hours, this and nothing else if Cain wanted, just to be together, in the calm stillness that only comes in the dead of night.  

He rolled his hands back up Cain's back, squeezing at his shoulders, massaging Cain's sculpted biceps. And then he started over again, just touching Cain anywhere he could, just because he could.

"Your turn," Cain announced finally, his face still half-buried in pillows even as he started pushing himself off the bed.

"Oh," Abel said as he rolled off of Cain's back and fell to the side. "You don't-- you don't have to if you don't want, I--" 

Cain didn't say anything, just grabbed the bottle where it lay by Abel's knees, and made a suggestion with his eyes that Abel lay down. 

He did his best to relax into the bed, but it wasn't easy with Cain climbing on top of him, and pressing his whole naked body on top of Abel until he could feel that he was already half hard. Cain imitated him, kissing and slightly nibbling at Abel's neck and shoulders, wrapping his hands underneath to tease Abel's nipples. 

"Nnh! Cain..."

"Shhhhh..." Cain's teasing turned back into gentle touches, just holding Abel for a few moments before he sat back. Abel heard the pop as the oil was opened and then it was falling on his back, warm and soothing. Cain's hands wandered Abel's skin, and he allowed himself to get lost in the feeling, closing his eyes and humming without really meaning to. He might have fallen asleep if it hadn't been for the anticipation of what Cain would do next.

What Cain did next was position himself kneeling between Abel's legs, teasing with his fingers at the crevace of Abel's ass. "Heard you were trying to run the gauntlet tonight, princess."

"Mmm -- what's the -- gauntlet?" Abel whined, pushing up into Cain's almost feathery touches. 

"It's where you try to get fucked by all three people in the house in one night," Cain explained, and then barely pressed the head of his cock to Abel's entrance.

Abel felt his face begin to burn with the truth of it. "How did you--- uhhhh..." He lost his train of thought as his lover pushed inside easily, Cain still a perfect fit even when Abel felt so deliciously used. 

Cain covered him with his body, leaning down to growl in Abel's ear as he slowly thrust in and out. "Did they come inside you?" 

"Uh?"

 _"Did they?"_ Cain demanded, his touches still soft, even as his voice was rough. "Is that what you want? Hmm? To have all of us inside you at once?"

Abel swallowed, almost gasping for air with Cain's weight on top of him. "Mmm-- _yes,"_ he breathed. His skin was hot all over. As Cain licked a slow stripe up Abel's cheek and then kissed his mouth, he marveled at it, that Cain could still make him feel this way after all this time.

"Fuck, princess, you're such a dirty slut," Cain mumbled against his lips, and Abel took it as a compliment and kissed him harder, biting at the edge of Cain's lower lip with a nasty smirk. 

He knew he was too spent to come again, so he just pushed back into Cain's thrust, trying to make it good for him, trying to make it as good for himself as he could. He squeezed his glute muscles and Cain groaned in response. He just relished in the feel of Cain's body like he had with the massage, every callous, every muscle, feeling every inch of him as Cain swelled bigger and bigger inside him until he knew it wouldn't be long. "Come, please come inside me, I _need_ it," Abel begged. 

 _"Fuck_... baby..." Cain swore through gritted teeth as his thrusts became erratic, his loud moan muffled in blond hair as Abel was filled for the third time that night. 

Cain collapsed, still half on top of him, breathing heavy in his ear. Abel shifted them both until he could bury his face in Cain's chest. "I like it here," he said after a while, smiling against Cain's overheated skin.

"Hmm? My room?" Cain said between panting, voice wavering between confusion and pride.

"No...  _here,"_ Abel nuzzled at Cain's collarbone, just so he would get he point. "I feel safe."

Cain strained his neck to look down at him, and as their eyes met, Abel thought that Cain looked... a bit hurt... oddly enough. 

"What's wrong?" he asked, his forehead tightening with worry. 

Cain's expression quickly melted to thoughtfulness. "I want to give you one of your presents now."

"Oh!" Abel demurely bit his lip, and held Cain a little tighter, rubbing their bodies together again. "Is it a sexy present?"

"Noo..." Cain answered with a smile. "But I can't wait to give it to you anymore."

"Oh. Okay... is it under the tree?" Abel wasn't too keen on the idea if it meant he had to get out of bed.

"No, I have it hidden in here," Cain said, lifting himself up out of Abel's arms, and off the bed. Abel watched with sleepy amusement as Cain stood up naked, skin still shiny with oil in the dim light, leaning over the laptop computer on the desk and pausing the music. Then he opened one of the desk drawers, and pulled out a tiny, black, velvety box. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know i'm so meaaannnnnn. SOOOO MEEEEAANNNN. Sorry if this chapter isn't as high a quality as the others have been. I wrote it in kind of a hurry at the last minute. :(


	21. This have I done for my true love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> or "Marriage is a social construct"

Abel shot up in the bed, his heart making a good attempt at doing a somersault in his chest. He stared at the little black box as Cain climbed back into bed, just trying figure out how he was supposed to feel. Thrilled? Should he play it cool? Was this really happening? "Is... is that what I think it is?"

Cain held out a cautionary hand. "Now don't get too excited--"

"Oh..."

"Well, get _excited,"_ Cain clarified as he sat down. "Just... not too excited."

Abel scowled. "Well now you're just fucking with my emotions. Let me see--"

"Nope!" Cain caught Abel's wrist as he lunged forward to grab the box. Abel continued to frown at him, more confused than ever. "I practiced the speech with the box in my hand. It's like a prop. So..."

That got Abel's attention. "...There's a speech and everything?"

"Yep."

"Wow..." He frowned again, but this time it was more from being impressed than being mad. "Okay."

Cain was silent for a moment, just looking at Abel with a content sort of reverence he didn't think he'd ever seen on Cain's face before. "Come here," he beckoned Abel to him, getting them situated so that Abel was sitting on one of his thighs, wrapping his arm around Cain's neck for support, both of them still completely in the nude.

Abel could tell he was struggling with it, suddenly tense and unsure of himself. He leaned down and pressed his lips to Cain's forehead, and that seemed to relax him enough for him to speak. "I am so in love with you," Cain whispered. "And... I figured out a long time ago that I didn't deserve you. And... for a while, I sort of... thought that if I let you be with Keeler and Encke, someone that did deserve you, then maybe you'd be happy, and would keep me around? Maybe it wouldn't be quite as noticable what a piece of shit I was?"

Abel shook his head. "Cain, you're not--"

"Shh!" Cain put a finger over Abel's lips, still holding the box with the other fingers. "I'm in the middle of my speech!"

"Sorry..." Abel said quietly, struggling to stay serious.

"Shit, where was I?" Cain mumbled. "In love with you, don't deserve you, Keeler and Encke... Oh! 'Kay... But I realized, that was really cowardly of me. And you are so strong and so brave. You deserve to be with someone who is strong and brave, too. So, I decided I needed to buck up, and become the person that I thought you deserved to be with. Someone who would treat you right, and make a life with you and make you happy. You --" Cain's voice cracked, and he grimaced as he fought to stay composed. "Fuck... I promised myself I wasn't gonna cry... You inspired me... to be a better man."

Sensing that he was just barely holding together, Abel cupped Cain's face in his hand, and Cain leaned into the touch, closing his eyes and kissing his palm. With feather-light fingers he brushed through Cain's bangs, as the other man looked up at him, pleading with his eyes as he kept his lips pressed there, half-hiding. They stayed like that for a little while, perfectly still, until it seemed Cain remembered to breathe.

"So... anyway, I was kind of wondering," he said hoarsely, holding the box up and opening it with one hand. "... if you would... let me be your husband."

 Abel's gaze flitted between Cain's eyes and the box, trying to make sense of the fact that there were two rings inside of it, instead of just one. Each of them were etched with a pattern that seemed to be based on a part of Saturn's rings. "Oh," Cain pulled the lighter-colored of the two out of the box. "This one is yours."

Abel took the ring from him, just holding it tight between his fingers as he looked at Cain, trying quickly to sort out his answer through all the questions that weighed on his mind. "Well, the answer is yes, of course!" he said with a nervous smile, and Cain smiled too, chuckling a bit as he began to breathe easier. "I'm... I'm sorry, I'm just really surprised. I thought that we were gonna wait for a few years, and maybe have a double wedding with Keeler and Encke when everybody was ready--"

"I know..." Cain nodded. "But I just couldn't wait any longer. I talked to them about it, and they're fine with it. Encke said, 'Abel belongs to you, so why don't you just fucking make it official already!'"

"He really said that?" Abel giggled.

"Yeah... which... brings me to part two," Cain said cautiously.

Abel was sure his eyes couldn't get any bigger, but somehow they managed. "There's a part _two?!"_

"Yeah, um..." Cain reverted back to being shy about it. "I don't really like the word fiancé? And... according to the law in the colonies, you don't actually have to have a ceremony to get married. You can just... decide that you're married... apparently. I did some research... So... technically, we could get married right now."

It was too much. Abel bowed his head down, covering his mouth with his fist as he started to cry.

"Fuck, please tell me those are happy tears?!" Cain pleaded.

"Mmhm," he nodded helplessly, and Cain shushed him and held him tighter. "But Sacha... I mean did you have to do this right now, while I was covered in jizz?" He laughed and sobbed at the same time.

"Hey, I still want to marry you even if you're covered in jizz," Cain shrugged. "I want to marry you no matter what. But if you keep crying like that, then I'm gonna cry and I promised myself I wouldn't," he said softly.

"Okay... okay I'm alright," Abel said, sniffling and pulling himself together. He realized he was still just holding the ring between his fingers, so tight that it was starting to hurt and cut off his circulation. "So... if we put these rings on, then we're married?"

"If you want," Cain said quietly, smiling up at him. "Or, we can, I dunno, say some vows or something if you'd rather do that. Or we don't have to at all. We can wait until later if you don't want to right this second."

"No, I wanna do it now," Abel insisted, trying not to cry again just at the thought of actually saying vows. "I think... I think what you already said was good. I guess I should say something too?"

"If you want."

"Um... well... okay?" Abel took a deep breath just for courage and maybe to buy time to think of something to say. "Um... I, Ethan, take you Sacha, to be my husband. And I promise to..." he had to think for a minute about what he thought married life with Cain would actually be like. "I promise to always taste test your cooking and be honest about how it tastes, and I promise to microwave you soup when you get sick, and I promise to let you shop for lingerie and say it's for me when it's actually for you..."

Cain snickered at him, incredulous. "These are either the best vows ever, or the worst vows ever--"

"I'm not done!" Abel protested. "And, I promise... I promise to still love you when you're a bald old man with smelly farts, and... I promise to always communicate with you about how I feel about stuff, even when it's hard, and I promise to stand beside you no... no matter what happens," he finished, his throat tightening as he felt the crying coming back on, suddenly thinking about all the things that had happened, the trials they had gone through just to get to where they were.

Cain gingerly took the ring from him, still looking up at Abel with those strange, vulnerable eyes, as he slid it onto Abel's finger.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> blub blub blub blub ; _ ;


	22. Your Body is a Winter Wonderland

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has felching in it. Sorta? Just letting you know. I'm not sure if I need to define that word? For people who might not know what it is? But basically what happens in this scene is that someone gets rimmed who's anus has come in it. That's the problem is that I can't warn you about it without describing it. Sorry. That's actually about as graphic as the description is in the actual scene. So... yeah. Be ye warned. Or something.  
> I don't know how it happened. I don't even like the idea of felching. Cain is just... he just does things. I can't help it. I have lost control over the characters. I am no longer in charge. Send help.  
> Oh, also there's feet stuff. I understand some people don't like feet stuff.

"So..." Cain looked down at the ring on his finger, twisting and playing with it, as the two of them sat facing each other, cross-legged and naked on Cain's bed. "Feel any different?"

Abel thought about it moment. "Not really. You?"

Cain shook his head. "Are we supposed to?"

"Um... I'm not sure, I've never been married before," he joked. "Maybe not."

Just then there was a very persistent-sounding knock on the bedroom door. "What the fuck do you want?" Cain called out.

 _"Did he say yes?"_ came a voice on the other side.

"Of course he fucking said yes, what do you think?" Cain chuckled.

 _"Can we come in?"_ the voice asked. Abel quickly grabbed at the sheet and pulled it over his lap.

"What are you doing that for? Both of them have seen you naked, tonight in fact..." Cain chided.

"I dunno, habit? Are you gonna let them in or not?" Abel retorted.

"Yes, you can come in!" Cain said to the door. "But just for a minute," he added as it opened and Keeler and Encke spilled inside. "We're on our honeymoon for fuck's sake."

"Well can I kiss the bride?" Keeler asked, clapping his hands expectantly.

"Sure, sure, go ahead," Cain conceded, and Keeler leapt onto the bed and tackled Abel, pushing him onto his back and kissing him vivaciously.

 "Can I kiss the _other_ bride?" Encke teased, leaning down, and Cain play-bit at his face before locking their lips together and pulling him onto the bed.

Keeler giggled. "Oh my gosh, I've never kissed a married man before," he simpered, smiling brightly at Abel. "Somehow it makes this about ten times hotter."

"You hear that Sacha? We _are_ different. We're hotter," Abel said before kissing Keeler again, wrapping his arms around the other blond and hooking a naked leg around his waist. It only took half a second for Cain to rush over and protest. 

"Hey, hey hey hey! This is my honeymoon... get away from my husband!" Cain scolded playfully, shooing Keeler off of Abel.

"Ugh, I'm exhausted anyway," Abel whined. "I've already had sex, like... four times tonight."

Keeler grabbed Cain's arm, pulling him backwards. "We can take care of him for you," he suggested wickedly, and Cain's eyes went wide, looking at Abel like he was half-afraid Keeler might eat him.

"Yeah I think I'd like to just watch for now... I already had my bachelor party, practically," Abel agreed. "Have at it."

Cain quickly became the center of a pile of kisses and flying clothes, and Abel watched lazily as they got situated, with Keeler on the bottom on his back, and Cain in the middle holding Keeler's legs to his chest, and Encke behind Cain, fucking the two others with each thrust. Cain spent the majority of the time with his face planted in Keeler's foot, sucking on his toes and running his tongue along the sensitive parts of his sole.

After enjoying his own private entertainment for a while, Abel finally went over and knelt beside them, pulling Cain out of alignment to kiss him, as Cain was pushed into Keeler with each thrust of Encke's. Cain shuddered under his touch, moaning and breathing shakily as he fought to keep it together, cheeks glowing red, throwing his head back and baring his teeth as Encke reached forward to pinch his nipples. Abel chewed on his ear and ran a hand over his abs and considered how best to join in.

As if reading his mind, Keeler grabbed Abel's wrist, pulled him until he complied by straddling the other blond's face, and Abel grabbed onto the headboard as Keeler took him into his mouth. Abel thrust in slowly as he watched Keeler's face from above, watched him close his eyes as he pressed a sloppy kiss to the head of Abel's cock and then swallowed him deep. Keeler's bony fingers spread Abel's ass cheeks open, and he felt the bodies behind him start to shift. Suddenly there was an extra pair of hands digging into his thighs, and then something warm and wet and soft invaded him.

"Oh, god!" Abel cried out, clutching the headboard as he realized that Cain had found some way to bend down and plant his face in Abel's ass, teasing at the ring of muscle and darting his tongue inside. _"Cain..."_ Abel moaned, thinking about his earlier achievement of getting the entire household to give him successive cream pies. "That is disgusting," he groaned, not sure if he was impressed or just really turned on or what.

Cain chuckled against Abel's burning skin. "Nothing I haven't had in my mouth before," he admitted, and went back to his task.

"Uhh! Fuck!" Abel gasped as he contemplated that fact. "Mmm, who's the dirty slut now?"

Abel yelped as Cain answered him with a loud slap on the ass.

 

 

 


	23. Gift of the Magi, Part 3

Deimos woke up slowly on Christmas morning, drifting somewhere between sleeping and waking for a while, as Praxis pulled him gently into consciousness with soft kisses on his face. He wasn't sure how long he lay there before he realized he was awake, and started kissing back, just melting into Praxis's arms as their tongues met.

They didn't even have a tree, just a poinsettia plant Praxis had bought and set on their small dinner table a few days before, so Praxis just brought their presents up to the loft for them to open in bed.

"You first," Deimos said quietly, smiling as his husband opened the small package wrapped with silver paper. Praxis was careful with it, just peeling back the tape and folding and setting the paper aside before he inspected the box inside.

"Oh! For my watch!" Praxis exclaimed, pulling out the gold-plated band and holding it up. Then Praxis gasped. "Oh, you know I almost sold my watch. So I could have money to buy you a Christmas present. I'm so glad I didn't!" he chuckled nervously.

Deimos's eyes went wide with dismay.

"Yeah... but then Abel gave me a job, so... I didn't have to," Praxis explained, and Deimos gave him a tiny nod of understanding. "Thank you, Aleks. This is really great. I guess I'll have to go to the jeweler and get it put on."

As Praxis put the chain back carefully in the box for safekeeping, Deimos examined his own gift. It was slightly heavy, and wrapped in glittery paper, covered in snowflakes. "I hope you like it," Praxis said shyly. "I wasn't really sure what to get you."

Deimos imitated Praxis's cautiousness with the paper, folding it up and setting it aside. He reached into the box, and pulled out a wrist cuff, made of a soft but durable leather, and decorated with metallic silver paint. On the inner part of the cuff was a hidden blade. Deimos snickered to himself.

"What?" Praxis asked. "Is it okay? Do you like it?"

"Love it," Deimos answered, carefully wrapping the cuff around his wrist and ajusting the buckles that held it in place.

"Then... what's wrong? Something wrong..." Praxis astutely observed. "I know you really like the knife you have. But I figured one more wouldn't hurt. Or--"

"Sold it," Deimos interrupted.

Praxis shook his head. "What?"

"Sold my knife. To buy you a present," he whispered, not quite looking Praxis in the eye. "Didn't need it."

It wasn't exactly a lie. The knife had been a very nice one, a butterfly knife with a silver blade. He would miss it, but had figured he'd just get a cheaper one during the after-holiday sales. But now he didn't have to.

He leaned in and kissed Praxis on the nose. "Thank you," he said quietly, and Praxis ran his fingers through Deimos's hair to keep him there for another kiss.

 

Deimos spent the rest of the morning playing with his new knife, before they had to go to Christmas dinner.

 

 

 

 


	24. We Won't Go Until We Get Some, Part 1

_"Be nice,"_ Abel reminded as they stood in the kitchen, peering out to where Praxis and Deimos were sitting on the couch across from Encke. He looked over and gave Cain a warning glare that told of what might happen if he wasn't.

Cain did his best to look like his honor was wounded. "I can be nice," he pouted. "I'm gonna be nice!"

"Hmph," was all Keeler said from behind them, as he stirred a pot of gravy on the stove.

"You'd better be." Abel reached up to the ceiling and stretched out his back and his limbs. "God, I'm so sore from last night!"

Chuckling deviously, Cain swatted Abel's ass and groped it through his jeans, causing Abel to yelp and then punch him playfully in the arm. "Tch! Hey!" Cain protested. "Are you seeing this shit?" he said, turning to Keeler, who only shrugged with innocent wide eyes. "We haven't been married twenty-four hours and you're already hitting me!"

Abel just ignored him. There was too much to do. "Here take this and offer them to Praxis and Deimos, and make sure that they don't need anything," Abel ordered, handing a small glass tray of appetizers to his husband.

"What do you mean, 'need anything'? I'm not one of the fucking colonial servants at your parents' house--"

"Just... Sacha... it's not like that. It's just polite to ask your guests if they need something," Abel said sternly. "Like, a glass of water? Or if they need to know where the restroom is, or whatever. Just go... ask."

"Ugh, whatever, I wasn't even the one that invited them over." Cain rolled his eyes and stomped out with the tray.

Abel stayed there in the kitchen, taste testing Keeler and Cain's cooking, which was a very important job in and of itself, and admiring his new wedding ring. Not long after, the front doorbell rang, and Abel rushed out of the kitchen to answer it. "Clarence! Oh my gosh, Dean!!!" Abel exclaimed as he saw Porthos standing there with his beaming boyfriend.

"Yeah, he got to come home after all, isn't it great?" Ethos said cheerily, dessert caddy in hand.

"Oh, come in! Come in!" Abel beckoned, and they were hardly over the threshold of the door before Ethos pulled him to the side, Porthos going over to exchange only slightly awkward and very serious, manly handshakes with the four fighters in the living room. Abel could tell by the way everyone's voice seemed to be an octave lower than usual.

"Ethan, listen. I brought someone else with us," Ethos said, barely louder than a whisper.

"Oh?" Abel asked, eyes going wide with worry, and he somehow automatically locked eyes with Cain, who had apparently already sensed something was weird and was on his way over to where the two blonds stood to investigate.

Ethos was talking a million miles an hour. "I know you're probably not gonna like it, but, he really didn't have anywhere else to go, because his wife kicked him out a few days ago, and he arranged it so that Dean could be here, so I really didn't think it was fair to -- oh..."

Ethos finally went silent as the mystery guest in question walked through the still-open door, with his casserole dish, and his black cashmere scarf, and his salt and pepper beard.

 

 


	25. We Won't Go Until We Get Some, Part 2

Everything in the room went still; Abel was sure he could have heard a pin drop. Everyone was staring at Abel, at least it felt that way, as he stared at the commander and let Ethos's explanation sink into his brain.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Cain shouted, cutting through the silence. "You can't be here, nobody invited you--"

"Sacha!" Abel barked at him, and everything went silent again. "It's Christmas. There will be no yelling on Christmas," he declared desperately, directing it more to everyone than to Cain.

Bering's eyes were looking at something very interesting on the carpet, as Abel slowly approached him, and took the casserole dish out of his hands. "Welcome," he tried, but his throat was dry and he had to start over. "Welcome, Commander. You're welcome to stay. Please make youself at home," he said, as sincerely as he could, smiling and making eye contact only as long as was strictly necessary before turning around to take the casserole away.

"Abel, wait," the commander pleaded, and Abel froze, still turned partly away but giving Bering as much attention as he could spare from the silent freakout inside his brain. "I don't expect you to forgive me, but... please know that I am sorry. I'm sorry that we used you as a human guinea pig when testing the engine... I convinced myself for a long time that I was just acting in the best interest of my country, but... fighting for basic human decency is more important."

Abel's eyebrows shot up; the commander had made a surprisingly perceptive point. "Thank you," he said quietly, and nodded at Bering solemnly. "If you'll excuse me, I need to go set some extra places at the table..." he said, and rushed away.

He couldn't get to the empty dining room fast enough. He slammed the casserole dish down on the buffet with a dull clunk, and leaned over on the dark-stained wood surface, only looking in the mirror above it long enough to see himself hanging his head below his shoulders and trying not to cry. _There will be no crying on Christmas either,_ he tried to convince himself, focused on keeping his breathing steady and controlled.

He startled a tiny bit as a warm hand grabbed his shoulder, and Abel looked up into the mirror to see Cain had snuck up behind him. He spun around and clung onto him for dear life, wrapping his arms around his husband's neck.

"I am so sorry, baby," Cain whispered, muffled by Abel's sweater, and a single sob that somehow managed to escape Abel's throat. They stood like for what seemed like forever, Cain just swiveling the two of them side to side in a soothing rhythm, until Abel calmed down.

"I know it's not fair... I love you... and I hate him," Abel said between sniffles. 

"Shhhh..." Cain gently petted Abel hair. "There will be no hating on Christmas," he said softly. 

Abel nodded, his face still buried in the warmth of Cain's shoulder. "You're right. I need to forgive him." 

"Actually, you know what we should do instead?" Cain said at last, quiet but still bursting with optimism.

Abel sniffled. "What?"

"Well Ethos said something about Bering's wife kicking him out right?  So we should go announce to everybody that we got married, to rub it in his face! Wouldn't that be fun?" Cain grabbed his shoulders, gently massaging at them with his thumbs.

"Well," Abel pondered sheepishly. "Okay. I guess that would make me feel better. No hating on Christmas, but... maybe being slightly vindictive is okay," he giggled, still sniffling a little.

Cain smiled, and reached out his hand, confidently lacing his and Abel's fingers together. They just looked at each other for one last long moment, enjoying the stillness that existed away from the lively and raucous sounds in the other room, before Cain finally began walking away. "Come on, _hubby,"_ he teased, and pulled the giggling Abel out of the room.

* * *

 

Here's like the thing that they do at the end of movies where they tell you what happened afterward:

Bering decided that Anya had probably been looking for a reason to get rid of him for a while, so he moved in with Porthos and Ethos instead, and with Porthos's permission, kept Ethos company while he was away.

Cook and Phobos weren't invited to the CAKE house, but it was probably just as well since they spent all of Christmas "celebrating" their engagement, and that probably would have made the other guests uncomfortable... probably. They had an elaborate spring wedding and Phobos was the biggest groomzilla in the history of groomzillas.

Encke proposed to Keeler the following Christmas Eve. Keeler said, "Yes, but only if you actually include more Keeler/Encke in next year's Christmas fic." Sorry, Keeler. I meant for you two to be more represented, but then Cain decided to steal the show and propose, and he really didn't consult me, and it just made a beautiful mess of things.

Praxis and Deimos were finally able to find good jobs with the other boys' help, and the next Christmas, Praxis bought the two of them a ginormous house.

Abel and Encke's first date was to an arcade. Cain was sure to make himself seen cleaning his shotgun and glaring at people as they were getting ready to leave the house. Abel kicked Encke's butt at all the games, and not because he let him.

Several months later, it came out that Cain had told everyone in the house they were his favorite. He was dragged down to the dungeon for a proper punishing. 

He walked funny for a week.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god I finished a thing! It is literally a Christmas miracle! Thank you to everyone that encouraged me while writing this, I hope no one died from too much cute! Happy Holidays, everyone.


End file.
